


Growing Up

by octagonexplorer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, M/M, Slow Build, at the v beginning, bandstuck, because theyll be in band later duh, for later, sorry these tags are lame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:12:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octagonexplorer/pseuds/octagonexplorer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically following John and Dave as they grow up and therefore go on the road to discovering who they are. Or something like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

==> Be the nervous one.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and today just so happens to be your FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. Kindergarten, that is. You skipped preschool because your older brother had insisted that you would be cool without it. That going to preschool wouldn't have had any effect on how you feel now. However, you're really beginning to doubt his decision. If it wasn't obvious already, you are five years old and any choices made here and now are most likely to effect you later down the line, this occurrence definitely being one of them. You, of course, do not realise this yet because (duh) you're only five and the fact that you can tie your shoes still amazes you. It's a pretty great skill, you don't see how it wouldn't. Not everyone knew how to tie their shoes, I mean, you're kind of special! Bro said it himself, after all, and everything he told you had to be true. Right now, though, you couldn't help but question the honesty behind his words because of how petrified you were.

The building ahead of you just looks so big, _too_ big. How many people were even in there? Like, a million? You suddenly forget why you're here in front of these white double doors, why you're living in a new house in an entirely new state, why your brother was putting you through all of this. What was wrong with Texas? Why couldn't you go back _there_ , away from this school? You had friends in Texas! You did not have friends in this new place. Washington. Yuck, it even sounded stupid (ah yes, a word from the list of bad words Bro let you use). And now you had to go into this strange “school” (while you saw the playground and everything, you were not fooled) by yourself. Washington people were crazy! It was always super cold all the time. They can't be human! Bro put a hand on your shoulder and tried to make you take a step forward but you just weren't having any of that. You quickly shake your head instead, scurrying to shield yourself behind his legs.

“They're gonna probe me!” You exclaim, a serious expression dawning across your complexion because of the obvious: you were seriously serious about this. There was no way this was happening. You couldn't do this! You wouldn't! “M'sick, we've gotta go home.” For extra effect, you cough a couple of times and rub your nose with the back of your hand, hoping that this will be enough to convince him. Of course it will! It should! He would definitely take you home in a heartbeat. You're so convinced of this yourself, in fact, that as you speak, you go on and take the liberty of grabbing his hand and trying to pull him in the direction of the car, using all of your body weight to get him to bulge.

He doesn't. Instead, he pulls a dumb move and lifts you up over his shoulder (!!!) and then having the nerve to just laugh at you afterwards! Nooo, no, no, no! You flail, trying to get out of his grasp, despite already knowing that you are already losing when the game has barely even started yet. 

“Sorry, Dave. This is for your own good, I'm afraid. You're gonna love it though, I'm tellin' ya.” You don't believe him. You don't even want to believe him. You're going to be left alone with no one to talk to all day;.Why would Bro do something like this?

“Put me down, I don't wanna go!” Had there been people in a close proximity, you would not have thrown a total tantrum like you're doing now. You had been so cool and calm and collected about this before you'd left the apartment, to freak out like this wasn't really expected. You had this whole thing planned out. Step one, go to school. Step two, become the coolest kid in school. Step three, go home and do it all over again. It was as simple as that. However, the trip had unfortunately long steered from that course of interactions, and it looked a little too late to stand your ground either and breathe or something. What makes things even worse, however, is the fact that your brother doesn't even listen to you or even take your feelings into consideration here. He just brushes your words right out of his mind and marches right on inside. Even when he finally sets you down and kneels in front of you, it feels like he _still_ is ignoring your wishes, his hands eventually settling on your shoulders, trying to look you in the eye. You refuse to give him that satisfaction, though. Well, you originally planned on not doing so, but as your breathing begins to slow and you start to calm down, it's an automatic motion when you direct your attention back to him, meeting the dark where his eyes would be. Despite the fact that the pair of you are wearing bulky, triangular, anime shades, you know that you've been around him long enough that finding where his gaze was had become an easy task. 

It is when your focus had finally synced up with his that he flashes you a smile, though. A genuine smile. It's a rare sight to see, your brother's true smile. When you do see it, it always appears in the simplest of moments. At least, to you they happened to be. Like the time you claimed that you would take over the world using only apple juice. And the time you told him you'd made a friend at the park. And the time you told him that you wanted to know how to use a sword like he did. Maybe it's time that you mentioned that your older brother is sixteen. Pretty old, yeah, but not as old as people would originally expect. He's your guardian, he should be older, right? That's what people say. Either that, or they call him names (to which you don't respond to, nicely). But you don't really see a problem with him. A guardian is there to watch over you, not to be judged about it. He does a good job too! You should know, you're pretty cool so far even though it's only been a year. Before then, you guys had actual parents. They were really nice people. Bro wont tell you what exactly happened to them, though, or why they're gone. You think it has something to do with why you don't live in Texas anymore but you don't want to ask questions about it either because whenever you do, he looks really hurt. You've just calmly accepted that this is the way things will be from now on, with no parents and just an older brother. The details of it all confuse you but that's fine, he told you you would understand it more when you were older. So if you went to school... You would understand. That's what you hope. Any fight you have towards going to school is all fear based, to be honest. This is something you need and you know it.

Bro wipes away a tear that had rolled onto your cheek with his thumb, his expression softening, still doing his best to give you the extra push towards independence. 

“Hey, listen,” he says, his smile never faltering, “It's not that bad in there, little bird. I promise. You're going to make your bestest of friends in there, and you know what else? You're probably going to learn some pretty cool stuff, too. Maybe even cooler than anything I could teach you.” Your eyes widen when he says this. Even cooler stuff? Well, you want that too! Become cooler than Bro? Put you on the list! Making friends sounded okay, but only if they were nice. They had to be though, right? If they learned cool stuff here, they must be at least a little cool too. Geez, you don't know what you were so worried about. You nod at him and sniffle back what had previously threatened to spill out of your nose. 

“Yeah, okay. I can do that, I guess. Dunno why you're trying to make me cooler than you, though.” You shrug, wiping your whole face messily with your hands. Bro only smiles again and ruffles your hair, which you immediately reach up to in attempt to try and return to its smooth, original state because holy smokes, you really hate when people do that.

“Not sure why I'm doin' it either, kid. Hey, on second thought, why don't we go home? I don't want you passin' me up on the cool meter.” He says, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. Go home? Just minutes ago, he was begging you to stay! He _must_ have been telling the truth about being cooler than him, then, because there was no way he would just change his mind like that, otherwise. Ha! Figured him out. You were about to learn the greatest secrets ever, for sure! Oh boy, you suddenly couldn't wait to go in there. Plus, Bro wasn't even invited in! That meant that only you could know, and he'll never find out, ever. You were starting to like this school already. 

“No way, Bro. I'm going in there. Go home by yourself!” You grin, adjusting the straps on your backpack as you start to take a few steps backwards, still watching his reactions as you head towards the classroom. Bro covers his face with his hands for a moment and you know, you just know, you've won this.

“Aw man, you got me. I guess I better give up now while I've still got my cool. I'll pick you up when class ends, I suppose.” Haha, what a looooser! Nevertheless, your grin only widens and you wave goodbye to him before turning around and padding off in the direction of the room. Before you actually enter, however, you freeze up. This was it, wasn't it? The start of your manhood? Could you even do this? Was this even in the cool kid hand book your Bro always recites lines from? Your palms start sweating, now doubting whether or not you were actually even capable of doing this. Washington people were different, weren't they? They obviously have a different definition of cool any everything! He didn't even know if he would fit in. What if you don't even make friends, at all? No, no don't think that, Bro promised you would! The main issue here was that you would just really, really miss him. You didn't want him to disappear, like your parents did. There was nobody you had left! 

You look back at the front doors, which seemed so far away now, looking at your brother nervously. You know that he would come back, he promised you, he did. But... just to be safe... You abandon your post in front of the classroom and run back to him, as fast as your light up sketchers could take you, before latching onto his waist. A few hours, you would only have to go a few hours without him. While you know this, you still can't help but try and hug him tighter, as if it would help ground you and keep his presence with you somehow. It won't, you also know this, but it does manage to make you feel a little better about leaving his side for the first time ever today. There have been other times in which you have had to go without being with your older brother however those times were still few in number. This was much different, especially since you would be surrounded by complete strangers. You did not like strangers, to say in the least. Strangers did not like you. You thought so, at least. The kids back home would usually tease you because of stupid things like your glasses and your eyes and even about your brother. Now, you wouldn't have Bro around to stand up for you in case anything like that happened, would you? He wouldn't be at your side to immediately speak up to the opposing force anymore. Maybe he could help later but... Would it really be the same? One could old hope, you guessed.

“Love you.” You mutter, slowly pulling yourself out of the embrace. 

“Love you too, little bird.” He replies. You think his cheeks are wet, probably from crying. Oh geez, you guys are being so uncool right now, you couldn't do this. You needed to get back into your previous mode already, no more of this cry baby fest going on. They couldn't think you were super uncool! How would you make any friends then? 

“You're weird. I'm gonna go now. See you later.” You say (of course, he laughs at this statement) and then wave to him as you walk off to your classroom once more, and hopefully for the last time today. No more blubbering, none of it. Be cool. You needed to make a good impression, anyhow! You wore your best black jeans and your raddest ironic t-shirt, with the picture of a funny, red, cartoon apple printed on the front. Bro said it was super ironic and therefore, it was super cool. You had to wear it, of course! Obviously, they would think you were cool, just like your brother did.

Or at least, you thought so. It turns out, a lot of kids in the classroom already knew each other from preschool and from just, around. This really knocks you down a step because everyone looks so close knit and you kind of just stick out like a sore thumb with your almost white hair (which may or may not fade to red, depending on how lucky you are) and overall pale complexion. You don't really know where to sit at this point. There are six, short tables in the room, each one containing four chairs of all different colours. Almost all of them are full, and you're half glad about this because that means less people to be forced into conversation with. But sitting alone didn't sound very appealing to you either. You really have no choice though, because it isn't long before the teacher calls for everyone's attention and you have to quickly take a seat at the only empty table available. Ah well. Sooner or later, someone would come around!

She introduces herself as Mrs. Maryam but makes note that calling her Mrs. M was perfectly okay as well. Then she says that in order to get to know each other better, you will be playing a friendship game. This really grabs your attention. Maybe now was the time your brother spoke about!

The game was simple, really. You were all instructed to go around the room and each say your names, and then a random bit of information about yourselves. You have to make this really interesting if you want the others to like you, obviously! You don't know how Washington people worked. You have to go all or nothing here! As the game commenced, you took time thinking about what you were going to say, only half listening to the junk the other kids were saying.

“My name is Jade and I have a dog named Bec!!” Very cheery. 

“My name is Kanaya and I like clothes.” You quickly discover that she and Mrs. Maryam are related.

“I'm Karkat and crabs are cool, I guess.” You think the two of you would get along.

It continues like this, everyone saying something about themselves. You learn that a kid named Tavros takes a long time to talk, Eridan wants to be a wizard, and some other information about some other students. Wow, people here have some weird names. It almost makes you feel normal. But not quite. Maybe it's a Washington thing? Your convinced that it really is until it's finally this one kids' turn, a buck-toothed brunet with a pair of rectangular glasses hooked around his ears. He's wearing a shirt you're preeetty sure has something to do with that movie ghostbusters, but you wouldn't be able to say so with confidence. He's probably related to Jade because the two look just alike. Not to mention, they're seated right next to each other at their own table. 

“Hi, I'm John, and I really, really like movies.” They're definitely related. John, Jade? Had to be. Possibly the most run of the mill duo at school. You'd say the same about the other blonde girl Rose but to be honest, you find her to be a little weird. You don't think the other kids are weird, just their names, but Rose. Rose was odd. It felt like she could read your mind or something because whenever you thought her name, it felt like her eyes were staring right at you. Or maybe she's been staring at you this entire time. You have no idea but either way, you kind of don't want to find out. The game eventually comes to an end, though, after you spew out that you like music, so there isn't really much time to think about it, much less shoo her attention away somehow. 

You're all given the task of colouring a picture of a train after this, which the teacher announces is free time. Free time, she says, is when you have time to get work done and even talk to your friends, though that chatter should usually be about work. This rule you can already tell is very flimsy, and no one is really going to talk about the assignment for the entire duration. You think she is okay with it, though. 

Wanting to get as much work done as you can in the time frame you were given, you open your backpack and pull out your special, 64 Crayola crayons, setting them next to the picture you were given to fill in. Obviously, yours would be the coolest! Haha, you had to give him shades! Oh, but first, the grass, the grass... your hand reaches towards the box ready to open it up and pull out the crayon you needed for the task, but before you could even do so, the box is gone. Well, not gone. The box had been picked up, rather, and some other kid was already rummaging through it.

“Hey..” You begin, furrowing your eyebrows in slight frustration before looking up at the perpetrator. Oh. This kid. John, you recall. “Those are mine.” You tell him, defensively. John, however, pays you absolutely no mind. In fact, he straight up ignores you. He walks off with the box wordlessly and returns with his own paper before sitting down in the blue chair next to you (and by next to, you mean sort of at a diagonal). Then, pulling a yellow orange crayon out of the box, he finally sets it down and starts to draw his own sun in the corner of the page. 

A part of you kind of wants to hate him for taking your things like that, but he _did come back_. It's not like he had stolen them from you, if that were the case, you probably would've been a little mad. But the kid kind of ticks you off! No apology? No nothing? Just invites himself into your life just like that? 

You don't say anything about it or to him as you get out the green crayon and start filling in the grass. 

He doesn't say anything about it either. It's when he puts his crayon back in a random location that you actually say something. 

“It doesn't go there.” You tell him, moving it to its correct position. John frowns at you in confusion, as if you were the crazy one for even saying something like that.

“What d'you mean?” He asks.

“That's supposed to come after red.” 

“Why?”

“Because that's how it goes.”

“Why can't it go any other way?”

“Because it's supposed to be like a rainbow.”

“But it's not a rainbow? They're crayons.” You're baffled. Stunned. How could he say something like that? So simplistic? John, John, John! He had so much to learn! 

“Everything is supposed to go a special way or else it's gonna like... throw the world off.” You explain to him, letting him pry the green crayon out of your hands and replace it with a red. 

“You're weird.” He tells you, but you don't reply. You colour your train instead, letting him say this about you. There is another gap of silence as the two of you continue to colour when eventually, it is John who speaks up.

“Starting today, we're going to be best friends. Okay?” He asks, and you question his seriousness about it until you actually see the look on his face. He sounds so positive, so already decided on the subject, that turning him down wouldn't make any sense. Well it would make sense, you'd only just met! But still. John was a little too straight forward for your tastes. He was annoying, basically. But... you didn't have any other friends. And maybe John would do some good being yours. Especially since he was absolutely clueless about the way the world worked. God, he needed help. This is what you wanted, wasn't it? Friendship?

“Okay. I guess.” You respond with a small nod, readily accepting your fate. 

What you weren't expecting so soon, however, was for him to basically spell out his life story for you. He, one, confirms that he is related to Jade because they’re siblings. Then he starts telling you about her and how he doesn't actually live with her, but he lives with his dad instead. He tells you that his favourite colour is green but Jade likes green too so he pretends that it's blue. He tells you that his Nanna lives with him too, and works with bakery people. He also tells you that he's allergic to peanuts and will be in a lot of pain if he just touches them or eats them. You definitely take note of that last one. The two of you do this for the rest of the day. Just exchange information while colouring, and even all the way through snack time when he takes your animal crackers without even bothering ask, again being way too comfortable with himself. You don't really like it, but you'll let it slide. Maybe. At least in your head you don't. You actually don't like him all that much for doing that. But you feel like this will just be a pattern of his and if you're going to be best friends, you had to accept his really dumb flaws, right? Unfortunately. It's not hard for you to accept them all that much though, you're pretty okay with just... going with the flow, frankly put. It's not like you had anyone else to retreat back to anyway.

When the school day finally comes to an end, you notice that your green crayon has gone missing. Just, up and disappeared off of the map. It wasn't on the table, wasn't in the box, or the floor. You ask John about it but he gives you a heavy shrug then directs his attentions elsewhere. Oh well, you guess..? Ugh, you'd be missing the base green from your crayon rainbow but maybe you could talk to Bro about getting it replaced. You'll ask in the car or something, on the way home.

It is John who's picked up first out of the pair of you. All he really does is just say goodbye, and you mean that. There's nothing too heartfelt, no extra words, nothing. Alright, well, he waves if that's any consolation. If that how friends work? They talk your ear off and then just... leave? That was another thing you definitely had to ask Bro about, because you weren't even really sure John counted as a friend. You didn't really want to be his friend. Every time you thought this however, the reminder that he really is your _only_ friend strikes your mind again. What have you even gotten yourself into?

“I know you.” Okay, were all Washington kids like this? So... decisive about stuff they really had no idea about and then expect others to bow down to whatever it was they said? The fact that it was Rose speaking now made you grimace, diverting your eyes away from her.

“Nuh-uh.” You reply, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly.

“Yeah, I do.” She responds quickly, and way too comfortably.

“Since when?”

“Since forever.”

“You're lying.”

“Am not! Ask my mom.”

“Maybe I will.” It's silent after this for a few minutes and you actually get around to packing up your stuff while you wait for your brother to arrive. You're not asking her mom anything but it also turns out that you really don't have to. It's Bro who recognises Rose and her mini family. And for a moment, you're also really confused. Why was he being so friendly with them? Why were they hugging? It takes you a moment to catch on but Rose's words do end up ringing with some truth. She does know you, but only from photographs. Turn out, you're twins. What a fast development It's complicated, Bro tells you, but you'll understand things a little more when you get older. It doesn't even take you all that long to start thinking of her as a sister, and that's probably due to the fact that you are a child. For now, however, it's time to go home, and you have so much to tell him about how your day went.

Starting with the annoying kid who refused to understand the upmost importance of the rainbow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's birthday extravaganza.

**December.**  
  
== > Be the annoying kid.  
  
Your name is JOHN EGBERT and first things first, you are NOT ANNOYING. The attitude you carry is just a little... stronger than what other people usually have, is all. Or at least, that's what your dad tells you. Take note that you're only FIVE YEARS OLD so it's likely that you'll grow out of it. Likely, not guaranteed. You can't blame a kid for wanting what he wants and going after it, right? That was a pretty awesome trait to have, if you do say so yourself. Hey, you really did get everything you wanted from being so strong-willed (pushy). If anything, you _wanted_ to stay this way when you got older! There was nothing better than taking charge of your life. Maybe your methods weren't the best but you're young, so what. It's not like it matters now, anyway. Your behaviour isn't _that_ bad. You're a nice person, you think. People just need to stop being babies and accept the truth you deliver to them. The other day you told Eridan that the way he talks is kinda weird and he looked like he was about to cry. It's true though! You've been thinking it for the entirety of the school year, which has only been a few months, but last week was the first time you've ever said anything about his stutter thing. You were also pretty sure that his stutter was fake, too. Who doubles all of their w's, and replaces their v's with w's? _Just_ Eridan, apparently.  
  
Your way of living obviously must be working out though, not only because you got whatever you wanted, but you also made a ton of friends along the way. Even a best friend! How cool was that? Having a best friend was the best. It had the word best in it, it had to be true. You knew the moment you laid eyes on Dave, the two of you would be friends. Plus, you kind of thought he was super cool at the time, and that swayed your decision by a lot. He was mega cool. The cooliest, for sure. Not to mention, his shoes _lit up_? Uh, how many people had light up shoes? Nobody! That was right. _You_ wanted light up shoes! Dave was undeniably cool, definitely. You wanted to be friends with him, so you made it happen, end of. Your dad says you're very endearing. If you weren't as young as you are now, some people would say you're a little arrogant. When you get older and think back on this, there's a guarantee to be some laughter because, wow, you're pretty ridiculous. For now, however, you're just a child and will continue to be happily unaware of your slight bully inclinations. Nobody has complained about it yet, anyway. It's not like you see anything wrong with it. Anyway, enough about yourself for right now.  
  
Today happened to be a very, _very_ important day. What day, might you ask? Why, it's Dave's birthday! (See, you're not a real bully, you remembered his birthday). Unsure of what to get him though, you and your dad ended up baking him a bunch of different sweets he might enjoy, the night before. You knew Dave was head over heels for apples so, of course, apple pie was the first call. It was made in a small pan though, one that might fit a pot pie, but just a hair smaller. There's probably some other weird name for it but you don't remember it, nor do you care to remember it right now. That was just something you'd have to ask your dad about later. It was aluminium, you knew that at least. Along with the pie, you made Dave three different types of cupcakes (lemon, chocolate, and red velvet) in your easy bake oven and even got him a green crayon because all he seems to complain about is how he keeps losing his. What you _wont_ tell him is that you're the culprit behind his missing green crayon problem that arises about every other week. It's not like you really had to, he usually replaces it a day or two after he notices its disappearance.  
  
Yeah, yeah, you know. Wow John, why can't _you_ get your _own_? Or maybe even the alternate version; Wow John, after taking his green for so many weeks, don't you have _enough_ green crayons? Alright, so here's the thing. You really have no choice! Every time Jade comes over and the two of you play together, she always takes your green home with her. There's no way you would have a green crayon of your own if she's always _taking_ them! And your dad doesn't want to just buy a whole 'nother box of crayons just because you're lacking in the green department. It was just _one_ crayon, after all. What one might be thinking now is that, oh, Jade must be taking all of the greens that John must be taking from Dave. But that is still not the case. The thing is, is that John also has a tendency to lose the crayon after he brings it home. He puts them in special hiding places in his room that he's sure Jade will never look or find, despite the fact that she's really good at doing that. He almost _always_ forgot where those hiding places were, though. And thus, the cycle of stealing Dave's crayons continues. Being friends with him had its perks, and an unlimited supply of green crayons was absolutely one of them. Maybe one day you'll finally be able to go a day without worrying about Jade taking your's but today is not that day. You don't think that day will be coming any time soon, to be honest.  
  
To make the whole event even more official, you and your dad put the goodies into containers and wrap those in red gift wrapping paper, because you know that's Dave's favourite colour. Good friend much? Yeah. You're the best friend! Haha, literally. Cause you're best friends. Truuuthfully, you did _not_ wrap those, your dad did, but it was your suggestion! If you really tried doing that, you would probably end up destroying, you don't know, your whole house. Anything crafty just wasn't your thing.  
  
At all.  
  
Dave definitely knows this, first hand. He knows this so well, in fact, that whenever you're assigned to do things in class that involve glue or scissors or really everything of that area, he immediately offers his assistance. And you're using the word assistance lightly, here. It's more like, he can't even stand the idea of you working on a project by yourself because you're just so bad at it. He basically just finishes his in lightning speed (which still ends up looking amazing even though it's rushed!) and then does yours for you. There was a point in time where you used to ask him to “help you out” (aka, do it start to finish), but eventually he discovered that you weren't kidding about being terrible at arts and crafts and took on the task himself.  
  
Today, however, would be different. Today, you were going to do your own work. And it's not like you were bad at everything else you guys did in class, you really weren't! You were one of the top students, actually! (How the teacher didn't catch Dave doing your art projects was a mystery to you. Or maybe she just noticed and didn't really care much. You doubted the second one was really true here, though, considering she was supposed to be instilling good habits in all of her students). But if you're given something that doesn't resemble and pencil and paper, you're way done for. Dave is kind of your hero. Without him, you wouldn't have been able to give your dad so many gifts. All of yours just... fell apart. It was better to give him something complete, right? That's what it felt like, anyway. Everyone else had really cool final products, you didn't want to be left out of that. You think you could manage for the day, though, since it was Dave's _big_ day and all. It was Friday, conveniently enough; you did arts and crafts on Friday’s. Earlier in the week, the teacher had said something about macaroni art..? That was probably what you guys were going to be doing later. Hehe. Later as in, after you guys had snack time and after Dave had his first ever, friendship miniature B-day party!  
  
Dave claimed that he's never really celebrated birthdays before, but today, you were so planning on changing that. At snack, the two of you were going to have your own private celebration and nobody else in the entire class was invited. Except for maybe Jade or Rose because, duh, they were kind of your siblings? But that was only if they forced their way over to your table. You weren't really up for them coming over and ruining your tea for two. A best bro thing, you're sure. You think you could make an exception when it came to Mrs. Maryam, though. She was the teacher! She had access like, everywhere. And she was an adult. You didn't really have a choice but to listen to her, anyway, whether you liked it or not. Another thing to keep in mind here was that what she didn't know couldn't hurt her! Or at least, that's what your friend Karkat says sometimes, so you weren't even going to tell Mrs. Maryam about it either. You didn't want to get in trouble for excluding the other kids or something, that would just ruin Dave's birthday.  
  
Your family was pretty big on days like these, clearly. Whoever was getting older deserved lots of attention and desserts and nothing less! And in this case, it was Dave. You would've made a cake and put six candles on it or something, but Papa Egbert had to break it to you that you weren't allowed to light candles in class. Thus, the plan changed to just the baked goods. But hey, at least you knew for sure they were they still going to be really good! Much like this day!  
  
“Dad, Dad, c'mon, c'mon!” You call out, a grin on your face as you race out of the kitchen and towards the door, waiting for your father to join you at your side. In your hands is a red gift bag holding Dave's treats and crayon which is a little heavy altogether, but the reminder that you'll be setting it down soon gives you enough willpower to continue on with carrying it. When he _finally_ comes to the door and opens it, you again make haste to scurry over to the car the best as you can with the bag awkwardly swinging back and banging against your leg. The distance to the car is much shorter than it was from the kitchen to the front door so it doesn't take painstakingly long for your dad to reach you, but you still badger him to hurry up along the way.  
  
Beyond excitement had to be your only emotion right now. You even had a clever prank planned out! A special birthday prank for Dave, the one and only! The day was _more_ than set in stone, as well as the schedule of it. In fact, you run through your mental to do list on the entire car ride to the school building, going over and over and over what was going to happen. The real magic happens, however, when you actually arrive at school before Dave and everything.  
  
Perfect.  
  
Once you're inside again (only this time, inside the school and in your classroom, not your house) the first thing you do is quickly head over to the table you and Dave sit at alone and sneakily pull out a whoopie cushion from the bag, setting it on Dave's chair.  
  
Oh yeah. This was the great prank you had planned to play on the blond for his birthday. It was pretty good, you obviously wont deny. You're so convinced that it's going to be extremely well executed, all you do afterwards is just plop right down in your own chair and set the bag and your backpack down in front of your feet in completion, a very smug look displayed across your face. Dave was going to walk right into your trap. Ahaha, or should you say, walk right into your mouse trap. Haha, get it? Because you put cheese on mouse traps and Dave was going to “cut the cheese?” Okay, that didn't really make too much sense. It was only twenty percent logical, to be perfectly honest. But whatever, that's beyond the point! The only thing that really matters here is that you're going to pull the best prank on Dave in the history of pranks as soon as he arrives at school.  
  
More and more student slowly begin to fill up the classroom and it isn't until the very last moment when the familiar blond makes his appearance. And by familiar blond, you of course mean Dave and not his freakishly similar sister. You've begun to really notice their relation now, especially since your dad has pointed it out to you quite a few times. The only true difference between the two, you think, is the fact that Rose was a girl and had longer hair, which she usually kept in two pigtails anyway, or sometimes even two braids. There was also the minor detail that Dave never took his glasses off, _ever_ , but whatever, you suppose. You can tell them apart pretty well, especially since you've known the two of them separately for a while before you actually discovered that they were related, and on top of that, twins.  
  
With his hands in his pockets, he strides over to your table, an air of confidence just radiating off of him. It was probably the whole, older than almost everybody in class thing that was giving him this cool kid confidence boost, to be honest. But you don't say anything about. No, you don't even think about it. This is just what you _would've_ been thinking about, had you been thinking about it. There's much more pressing matters at hand than Dave's levels of cool. Like, uh, _duh_ , this plan! It is soon deemed impossible trying to wipe the grin off of your face as the other moves closer and closer to you. The look you're giving him is _so_ obvious but at the same time, his complete and utter obliviousness only seemed to make the situation so, _so_ much better for you.  
  
In a few seconds from now, Dave would be subjected to the greatest prank ever in the entire history of pranks.  
  
Closer and closer, Dave was literally directly beside his chair now. Your grin turned into a quiet snicker, watching him pull his seat away from the table and--.  
  
“Really?”  
  
What?  
  
“A whoopie cushion?”  
  
 _What?_  
  
“You're gonna have to do better than that if you want to prank _me._ ”  
  
In case the statement wasn't caught quite yet, you're going to reiterate it just one more time.  
  
 _What???  
  
_ How did he pick up on that so quickly, so easily? It was a fool proof plan! Dave was supposed to be unsuspecting and oblivious! It worked on your dad all the time and he was basically a pranking god! How is it that Dave shows up all nonchalant and then points out your prank from the get-go, just like that? Unbelievable! The nerve of him! You let out a huff off frustration, your eyebrows knitting together. This was actually starting to make you a little mad now. Were your skills really just not up to par? Was Dave immune to pranks like this? How could he be, you've been taking his green crayons for months and he still hasn't noticed or even suspected why that might be happening. There was no way he could just _avoid_ being pranked like that, absolutely posi-lutely not! But all the same... he'd done it. He saw right through it. Ugh, how annoying. Birthday luck, it had to be.  
  
“You suck.” You mutter, folding your arms stubborning, a massive part of you still refusing to let this go under any pretences. Dave just cracks a smile at you, shrugging dramatically.  
  
“What can I say? My instincts are just spot on. I think it might be a Strider thing.” He says, which reminds you that technically, Rose was a Strider too, wasn't she? A rhetorical question, of course. Being related to her made a lot of sense. Man, you really should have seen this coming. How could you forget such an important detail? You're definitely going to have to try something a bit more intricate next time if you're going to be dealing with all this clever, Strider DNA in the future.  
  
“I'll get you good next time, I promise. Pranking is an Egbert thing, the only reason why it didn't work this time is because you're older than me.” You claim, with a small nod in agreement with yourself. Dave holds his hands up in defence, however.  
  
“Hey, if it makes you feel aaany better...” He begins, pulling the chair out a little bit more before plopping down into the seat, feigning a look of shock as the whoopie-cushion works its magic. What he did was somewhat unexpected and way planned out, but yeah, it _did_ make you really happy. Because that was the end goal, right? To get him to sit on the whoopee-cushion and laugh at him for 'passing gas'? So in a way it meant that you _did_ succeed. Knowing just _that_ was cool enough on its own. Ah, wait! It's Dave's birthday, today is supposed to be about him, not you! You quickly thank him before dropping the subject completely, fortunately being saved a few moments later by Mrs. Maryam, who began to speak about the day's plan.  
  
As expected, the only thing you guys would really be doing for the day is work on crafts; Macaroni art, like you'd recalled earlier. Wooow, your _favourite_ (and you mean this in the most sarcastic of ways). This would be the first time you guys were making actual macaroni jewellery though, so maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't be so horrible at it like you were with macaroni decorations and whatnot. Can't knock it 'til you try it, right?  
  
The time that passed between the beginning of class until snack time went by extremely slowly, which most likely had to do with the fact that snack time equalled party time and you were way too excited to focus on, well, _everything_ , but the wait wasn't _so_ bad! Working on writing was kinda fun, in your opinion, especially cause you were so good at it; Okay, now, not _amazing_ good, but when it was taken into consideration that this was seen through the eyes of five and six year olds, John knew about some super advanced stuff. He could probably write almost a full sentence, too, if he tried hard enough. But for right now, things would continue being blissfully easy, which he was definitely more than okay with.  
  
Another hour slowly dripped by and the topic of writing soon shifted into some lesson about bugs (It was actually a movie, so you were surprisingly really stoked about it). Apparently ladybugs eat super tiny, other bugs? Aphids, you think? How can ladybugs be all, majestic and cute and stuff if they were basically cannibals? Insects eating insects? This question ends up bothering you throughout the entirety of the film so as soon as it goes off, your hand shoots up and you ask why that was. Mrs. Maryam's answer isn't satisfactory, however; Gamzee ends up explaining to you that ladybugs eating aphids is basically like humans eating chicken nuggets, making you finally understand the point your teacher was trying to make to you. You were so caught up in the subject, though, that you didn't even remember that the end of the movie marked the beginning of snack time, and kids around the room had already begun pulling out food. That was, until, Dave had tapped your arm and asked about the bag under the table. Your first instinct is to protect it at all costs since that's what you've been doing all day from _everyone_ , but once your body and mind quickly recognise that this is the person you've been waiting to give the gifts to all along, a grin regains its rightful place across your complexion; smack dab onto your lips.  
  
“Oh? You meeean..” You smile, pulling it out from under the table and setting it on top for the both of you to see freely. “This bag?” The look on your face is a dead giveaway that whatever is inside is obviously for _him_ but he does his best to belie ignorance. Only, not very well, because every once in a while there's a half smile, half grimace on his face that only remains for about a quarter of a second before he remembers that you're watching him. He's probably conflicted about the whole thing. He _did_ say he didn't really want anything for his birthday because that was something he hasn't celebrated since he was like a baby or whatever, but the small twitch of smile gives you hope that he'll have a change of heart, and start enjoying his birthday festivities because of this awesome mini party.  
  
“Open 'em.” You tell him, lightly jabbing the bag with your index finger. For a moment he just stares at you, glancing down at the back in suspicion. After the whole prank thing this morning, you wouldn't be surprised if he thought you were trying to hide something else from him. But a sigh and a groan of defeat later, he pulls the bag towards him and takes out the three gifts, all of them boxed and wrapped neatly.  
  
“What's inside?” He asks, pointing towards the largest one which you think might be the pie. Of course you wouldn't tell him this though! That would totally ruin the surprise, aka, the entire purpose of you wrapping them!  
  
“Open them and find out.” You say with a grin, crossing your arms over the table expectantly. You can tell that he doesn't really want to, probably out of fear that something will blow up in his face, 'cause that he didn't celebrate birthdays often, but you couldn't really care less because he ends up opening the box anyway!  
  
He does so with extreme precision, first peeling the tape off from the sides slowly. Then, once the tape is all folded up into tiny triangles and on the table, he unwraps it carefully, leaving all of the paper in one piece (why??) before taking the Tupperware that was inside of it and setting it off to the side.  
  
“You're not gonna throw it at me, are you?” He looks up at you, opening the container cautiously, to which you roll your eyes at.  
  
“No, I'm not gonna throw it at you. Open the other ones!” Your slightly demanding tone might have done the trick to really help you out with that one because he quickly nods and reaches for the second box (the one that had to be holding the cupcakes), and carefully removes the wrapping paper from those as well.  
  
“Are you trying to give me a tummy ache?”  
  
“Don't be a baby, they're good.”  
  
“Whatever you say.”  
  
He's down to the last gift now, which was the smallest of all. You're pretty excited about this one! Mostly because it was an actual present and those other ones were more so party foods but still! Your eyes go as wide as an owl's would, watching him unwrap the tiny, tiny gift.When he finally gets down to the actual crayon, the first thing he does is raise his eyebrows, but you can't tell if he's surprised by it or wondering why you would give him as something as trivial as a crayon. So, to quickly fill the gap, you speak up.  
  
“It's because you always lose yours!”  
  
“What..?”  
  
“Your green. You always lose it, so I got you one. It's lucky.” And by lucky, you mean, you're not going to take this one from him, but obviously you're not going to tell him that.   
  
Dave twirls the crayon in his fingers for a moment before flashing you an appreciative smile. Which... you think it's the greatest thing you've ever seen aside from Ghostbusters. That must mean he really liked your gift, right? It had to!  
  
“Thanks.” He says, and although his response was rather simple, it does leaps and bounds for your happy meter. In fact, this makes you extremely happy for the rest of the day. All throughout snack time while the both of you eat Dave's sweets, and even while you completely mess up during arts and crafts and spill all of the macaroni from your macaroni necklace onto the floor, there is an unmistakeable smile on your face. You'd done a good job of picking Dave's present, despite how lame it kind of was, and he loved it. That was all that really mattered, right? You really excelled as a friend today, and you really, really loved it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, that escalated quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( I posted two chapters in one day, heck yeah. ))

**One year later.**

==> Be Dave.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER (as previously mentioned and to be mentioned many, many times later on) and your family is the WORST. Alright, well, not the worst. You aunt, Roxy, is cool; Bro is Bro; and Rose... Well, Rose is just interesting. Mostly annoying too, but you didn't hate her. Your negative feelings towards her were petty and didn't really count since she was kind of your sister and all. A nice, fair, sibling rivalry. That's all it was (A majority of the time). Plus, hate was a strong word and if you were going to use it towards any member of the family, you definitely had your eyes set on one of them in particular.

Cal.

Your history with that puppet could be described as a long and shaky one. The two of you haven't always gotten along, that was just a known fact, but you haven't always wanted to strangle the guy. And when you say this, you don't mean strangle and you also don't mean you intend on doing so because you're way too scared to actually do something. And that being because of the inevitable, overlying factor that Cal was creepy as hell. A disgrace to society. Why he exists is _beyond_ you but your brother is an idiot and thats all you could really say about it.

It all began a few weeks ago when you started having the dreams. Or the nightmares, rather, of that stupid puppet staring at you.  
 _Yeah, yeah, big deal Dave, it's just a puppet! They can't actually see you or even posses the ability to do activities such as stare!_

Ha, no. Yeah right. You've heard that line way too many times these past few weeks and the situation for you has only seemed to get worse. Especially because a few days after you had that super creepy dream, you _actually_ woke up with the plush body settled on the top of your fan, his head hanging in between two of the blades, giving off the feeling that he was _really_ watching you.

_“Bro, he's haunted.”_

You can recall the moment you tried telling your brother about the recurring problem you were having and while his response was different from all the other crappy ones you received from other people, it wasn't much help. Y'know, you shouldn't even use the word “much” in there because that implies that it was actually any help at all. It _wasn't_ any help. All you got was a sideways glance, a small smirk, and an amused, _“Is that so?”_ before he ended up just walking away and ignoring the true question. What a jerk! Even _Rose_ thinks your crazy. Well, Rose always thinks your crazy, but that's not the point here. The point is that some ugly push monster is ruining your complicated (not-so-complicated) seven year old life and you have no clue what to do about it. Why can't Cal be like all the other puppets? Like, the smuppets? Or maybe even the muppets? Maybe not so much the muppets though because Bro said that they were a cheesy rip off of his own creations and you definitely would not tolerate stealing. That's not your thing in any way, shape, or form. In fact, you're such a goody-two-shows that you refuse to even consider _touching_ scissors, including the safety ones. Pfft. Safe? No way. They _slice through things_. There was absolutely no way you were going to buy into that utter nonsense that these so called _”safety scissors”_ were even safe. If anything, they were just mediocre at best at doing their actual job. Besides, who would give little kids, scissors?? You would make a way smarter adult. By far.

But anyway.

Back to the sob story about your “traumatising” life.

Today's one of those days you have absolutely nothing to do.  
They don't happen too often, especially because you either always have homework (Thanks, American schooling system. You don't know why it sucks so badly just yet, but one day you'll come to your senses and realise it. Probably around the start of ninth or tenth grade, when things _really_ start getting difficult), or you're hanging out with John. Sometimes, it happens to be one of those special days, in which you're doing both at the same time. But this generally only happens when there's art homework to be done.

John _sucks_ at anything to do with art, and you're not trying to be mean when you say this but it's just a straight up _fact_. You're not saying your own art is superior either, but you at least get the job done quickly and efficiently. Just watching John put together things involving glue or crayons makes your heart _and_ your head, ache. It's not like you even know what that feels like yet, though. You're kind of just saying that to fully emphasise the fact that John is just _that bad_. Boy, do you get distracted. You probably look crazy, sitting on the couch in front of a blank TV, completely zoned out. You came over here to watch it, that was the goal. Not to think about how bad at art your best friend happened to be.

After making a mighty stretch towards the remote aallll the way on the other side of the couch, you finally somehow manage to get it in your possession, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for your honourable achievements. Ha. That took way faster this time. Last time the remote was on the coffee table. Trying to grab things out of reach without standing up at all is literally the hardest thing ever, especially when you've got such small limbs. You personally knew this struggle all too well.

It doesn't take too long for you to pick a channel you're satisfied with so in about a minute or two, you find yourself sprawled across the furniture, staring mindlessly ahead at some rerun of Bill Nye the Science Guy (Aka the best television show ever, you will argue with anyone who believes otherwise). Honestly, you don't know where you went wrong this morning. Here you were, just trying to have a relaxing day, watching Bill Nye make cool stuff. A simple life you were living, you believed. Up until you received the chilling reminder that you hadn't seen Cal in the past few hours and your brother hadn't shown any indication of him even being home at this point in time. Obviously he was home because you're way too young to be left completely alone, but being young made your imagination run wild. What if, in the middle of the night, Cal kidnapped your brother! You wouldn't doubt it. Cal _would_ do something crazy like that. You sure hope you're not correct about this because if so...

Well, let's just say you're never going to speak to Cal ever again, because you strongly believe in the silent treatment (Even though you suck at delivering it; You'll never admit that though, you don't think).

Peeling yourself off of the couch, you start glancing around the room for any glimmer of what might look like the villainous puppet. Seriously, where could he be? You hadn't seen the thing all morning! That almost never happened. Granted, he didn't always try freaking you out every morning, but you at least _saw_ him, pretty frequently. Ugh, this was so dumb. How were you supposed to watch TV at this rate, when all you could think about was the safety of your brother and the location of a “supposedly” (You don't believe it) inanimate object? You couldn't, thats the true answer here in all and all.

So you hop down from your perch, leaving the TV on because you know you'll eventually come back later, and assume spy mode. It's go time. Operation, rescue Bro Strider from the evil clutches of Lil Cal. There's no way he would be Cal the Pal after today. You see _right_ through his stupid little plan. Gosh, what does he think, you're some gullible little boy? Cause you're not. You're one of the oldest kids in your class and according to Bro, the coolest. That's that. It's nonnegotiable.

Although you didn't know this, believing that a puppet had the ability to even enact a crime wasn't normal. It's not like you were to blame for the whole thing, you were sure to grow out of it. Bro was more attached to the plush toy than you were, though. Maybe your age and gullible mind contributed to the belief you had but even John thought it was weird. Puppets don't move by themselves, according to him, but every time you tell your brother this he gets all heartbroken. He's just trying to preserve this little kid state you're in the process of phasing out of, you'll come to realise.

The search party for your older brother and Cal ends up taking a turn in the wrong direction when you wander into the kitchen.

Aka, the holy grail.

It was such a bad idea walking in there, there's absolutely no way you would be able to walk out of there empty handed. You were hungry. The last time you ate something was around dinnertime last night. It was morning. If bro wouldn't be here to make you something to grub on, then you were just going to have to do it yourself. You guys just got those cool, mini, frozen pizza's the other day, it was perfect. Even a baby would be able to figure out how to make it. Apply heat, duh. Piece of pizza (Get it? Instead of Cake?).

Everything that you don't expect to happen, happens.

It's like a series of cues that all just go off one by one.

The first mistake you make without realising is turning on the stove instead of the oven. After that little spiel earlier about how dangerous scissor are and how smart enough you are to not use them, you'd think that cooking would be put in the same boat. But it's hard to think about cooking as dangerous when all you know about it is that it creates delicious results. Plus, you rarely watch people cook anyway. The only times you've really spent time watching it are the times you and your brother watch cooking marathons on TV. But the thing you never came to understand was that they were professionals, and made their jobs look easy for a reason. It was easy for a thirty-something year old to whip something up in wicked speed.

But not for you, a barely turned seven year old.  
So after you finish struggling with the heating of the “oven”, you struggle with trying to get the pizza out of its little plastic packaging after getting it out of the freezer. You pull and you bite but to your disappointment, nothing works.

Thinking it would be a smart idea to set it down so you can go find the dreaded safety scissors, you do just that. Oh, you do more than set it down, however. You set the pizza, still covered in plastic wrap, onto the now probably scorching hot eye. And then, you _turn away from it_. Anyone could imagine what happens next. Well, sort of. It's not the fire behind you that makes you panic first, it's the sudden sighting of Cal tucked into the tool drawer that strips away your cool. The first thing you do is scream, a tiny little screech, quickly closing it back up again. Things would have been so much simpler if it ended there but it didn't. You still had to turn around, and the crackling noises and uncomfortable amount of heat against your back was making you nervous.

And for a good reason.

In a matter of seconds, maybe even a full minute, the fire had completely enveloped the pizza and was pooling over the countertops, already tall enough to reach the cabinets that were (now) inconveniently placed above the stove. This had never happened before. A fire, outside of a fireplace. Your mind raced back to your teachers instructions a few weeks ago of what to do in the situation of a fire but all you could remember was that stupid stop drop and roll thing. You were going to get in so much trouble!! Not just with your teacher, but with Bro! All this time you didn't think it would be a good idea to call him for the sake of not getting in trouble, childish tears pouring down your cheeks by the gallon, probably. And so, all it did was get bigger.

Honestly, if it weren't for the alarm going off, he still probably would have been sleeping. Bro, you mean. It had become apparent that he was just asleep the moment you found Cal without his owner within the vicinity. Your brother was barely even a legal adult, it came to no ones surprise but your own that he didn't react faster.

It's almost a blur, what happens next. You remember your brother coming into the kitchen to see what was going on. You also remember being in pain, but not because of the fire, not really. It felt like you were running out of air, your breaths getting even more shallow and each intake of oxygen a little more forced. But you don't stay there forever, obviously. The fire was a bit too big for the two of you to handle, it seems, because soon enough he's picking you up and carrying you out of the apartment, leaving behind all the things you've grown accustomed to.

\--

It's a miracle the landlord didn't file against your brother for being an unfit caretaker. You don't know what that entailed, but that's all Aunt Lalonde has been saying ever since you and your brother arrived at her house that morning. By this time, you're exhausted. You're _still_ hungry. Not to mention, you feel absolutely awful because you know that this is all your fault. And grown-ups have been throwing all of these confusing words around at you for what felt like hours, and you understand none of it. The second your brother told the doctor guys who came to the apartment building that you had asthma was the second you decided to just stop trying to figure out what they were talking about.

And the second you got to Rose's house, you crashed in her bed, no permission needed. She was your sister, even if it had only been a year since you guys have met. There was like some level of trust there that had been established since day one at the mention of being related to her. It's kind of ironic how you thought she was annoying upon first glance. You really do care about her, on some different platonic emotional level that you don't even understand yet. A sibling thing, you assumed.

For a good few hours you slept on, not waking until around noon. You probably would have slept longer if it weren't for the painful cough that rose out of you, forcing you out of your slumber. The whole situation had unraveled so quickly that it took you a few seconds to even realise you weren't at home. Waking up to unfamiliar shades of lavender wasn't exactly the most relaxing thing ever, especially after being in, y'know, a fire.

You quickly sat up and slid out of bed, perhaps a bit too fast because the feeling of getting up so quickly almost had you stumbling to the floor, but it was too late to take back the motion anyways. Rose's house, you were at Rose's house.

It was definitely a step up from your own. Her house was basically a freaking mansion in comparison. Her bedroom was probably the size of your living room, and it too was littered with toys. Cat toys, mostly. But for her, not her cats. She had more plush cats than you could probably count, at least ten of them sitting in front of her closet door. To make things more picturesque, though, she had one of those cool hanging light things on her ceiling? With all the crystals. A chandelier. Or was that the dog breed? Close enough, either way. Her bedroom was pretty fancy, come to think of it. Anyone who had like five different sized, matching in colour throw pillows had a fancy bedroom, in your opinion. That, and like everything was purple in there, including the carpet. Well, the walls were white, but still. You want a house like this. Bro would probably say no, though. He says no to a lot of things, and that you need to be more patient and learn to not ask for more stuff unless you absolutely need it. You were pretty sure that fancy carpet did not count.

Rubbing your eyes, you wander out into the hallway, hearing the echo of voices from all he way downstairs. You're a bit too tired to place some of them, though. The only thing you really recognise is the booming laughter from Aunt Lalonde, who basically found everything to be funny. That's what you call her now, if it wasn't obvious already. Bro says that's what she really is, anyway. You used to ask why you didn't get to meet her before, like he did, but as time passed, the question became rather pointless and you quickly adjusted to the change. Rose still calls her Mom, though. It makes sense, after all. She raised her, that's what she is. Her Mom. Just not yours.

Quietly, you make your way down the curved staircase, peering through the bars every few steps to see if you could spot anyone, but the voices are all coming from areas of the house guarded by doors and archways in place of doors. When you get to the bottom of the staircase, you're not even sure who's here anymore. There's no questioning that Aunt Lalonde is here, you heard her a few minutes ago. Rose was here, where else would she go? And your brother wouldn't leave you here without telling you anything. There was just an extra voice coming from where you assumed your aunt was, the kitchen probably. A deep voice that you could only assume would be--

_SLAM._

The sudden force that rams into you is probably comparable to a bull. One minute you were just trying to regain your thoughts and the next, a whirl of blue and black is ramming right into you, sending you and your thoughts to the ground.

“Ow, what the heck!” Are the first words that spill from your lips, too tired to even try getting up. Your eyes open (having had closed them on instinct while bracing the fall) and still hugging you is so clearly John. You'd recognise that mop of hair anywhere. Which means that the voice in the kitchen you heard was definitely his dad. Unsure of how to respond, you gently and awkwardly pat his back. “You can get off of me now.” You tell him, trying to be nice about it even though falling backwards did hurt. John, however, just stubbornly shakes his head, looking up at you with concern.

“Are you okay??” He asks, confusing you a little.

“No, my elbow hurts from you pushing me ov--”

“No, not that thing! I mean, are you okay? You--you almost died or something. Rose's mom called my dad and told us what happened so we came over like as soon as possible. I was gonna wake you up but they wouldn't let me.” A good thing too.

“I'm fine, I promise.” You say, giving up on the whole getting him off idea. It only lasted a few moments anyway. At this age, you could hardly care if your best friend wants to hug you, especially if it's because he was worried about you. John just knits his eyebrows and stares at you more intensely, looking for any giveaways about the truth. Once he's thoroughly satisfied that you're not hiding anything, which you're not, and you're thoroughly uncomfortable, he finally smiles at you and goes back to laying his head on top of you again, glad to know you're alright.

“I was like freaking out! My dad said you would be fine and so did everyone else but it was still pretty scary. Were you scared? I was.”

After he says this, he stands up and holds out his hand for you to take, which you do, and he helps you up off of the floor. You're so glad there's carpet here and not something hard like wood. You'd be beat up pretty badly if that were the case, simply from that fall. The two of you have been friends since your first day of kindergarten, and although it started off with you being annoyed by him, he's really grown on you. He's definitely a lot nicer to people, too. According to the adults, you're joined at the hip and nothing could ever change that. He's seen your eye colour and everything, you're inseparable now. He _has_ to be your friend, it's like, a part of the Strider Code of Conduct, created by your very own brother. How he saw your eyes in the first place was completely an accident, to be fair, but still. It made you feel a little closer, in your opinion.

Continuing to hold onto your hand, the two of you head into the kitchen where all the ruckus is coming from to find your smiling (????) brother, a laughing Lalonde, and John's dad, in the middle of a sentence. Forget the importance of whatever he was saying, the fact that it was probably making even your brother crack a grin was so... _weird_. Maybe he was faking it. Your brother doesn't even like adults that much, he says he can't trust them like at all. Excluding your aunt, but she's family. You guys are kind of obligated to like her, you think. That sounds bad! You mean, you should like her? Because you're related and she takes care of you guys sometimes, like now. And you do like her! She's awesome. Awesome and weird just like this conversation probably was.

“What's so funny?” John is the first one to ask, before looking back between you and your brother, finding the staring at him thing more than obvious.

Your aunt pretends to wipe a fake tear away then sets her hand back down onto the dark, granite countertop. The three of them are sitting in barstools next to each other in front of the kitchen's island, your brother being at the very end, as expected, and your aunt being in the middle. She waves it off like it was nothing, dismissing the conversation straight away. “Your dad was just telling us a story. I see you're awake! How do you feel, kiddo?” She asks, pushing out her chair so she could turn in it to fully face you. The response you give is a mere shrug at first but then you remember that they're all here for, well, _you_. This situation did not call for the cool kid thing. It called for something a bit more sincere than that.

An apology.

The times comes for you to let go of John's hand so you do so, walking over to the two blonde's with your head bowed in guilt.

“M'sorry. I just tryin' ta' avoid Cal and then I got hungry and I didn't know I turned the stove on but I did and I set our apartment on fire. S'all my fault.” You say to them, hoping that Dirk wouldn't be mad at you. Your aunt was softer on you, you knew that. But you also knew that she was probably disappointed in at least one of you. Maybe after this she would be happy too.

The reaction you get from your brother is sort of what you expected. His smile from before, sinks, and a sigh slips past his lips. He's upset. You can tell. The words you get from him, however, completely contradict his body language, and the vibe coming off of him.

“It's fine, little man. The important thing is that everyone's okay. I'm sure we can fix it and get back home in no time.” He smiles, but you can tell that it's probably forced. A least he's not mad. You're just doubting his honesty about being able to fix it. Because you know by now that it's going to cost money. Money that your brother's going to have to work even harder for to make. It'd be so much easier if you could just stay here. Hey.

“Um, Auntie Roxy?” You address your aunt, looking up at her. “Can we please stay with you instead of going home? We don't have any money.”

“Hey, kid, what are you saying, yes we--.”

“That's a great idea! You and Rosey can spend more time together! We'll be like a real family.” She grins, reaching forward to pinch your cheeks. You can almost here your brothers jaw metaphorically drop from behind her.

“We don't have to, I'm eighteen now. I'm fine with just picking up another job and--.”

“Dirk, don't be such a stick in the mud. I'm family. Let me help you. You have been through enough, taking care of both yourself _and_ little Dave isn't something you should just start doing at this age.” She shifts in her seat again so she could see the other blonde better, placing a hand on his shoulder, whispering something to him you're unable to pick up. But whatever it was changes Dirk's mind. A tear, you think, rolls off his cheek. You're glad John left the room a few minutes ago to go talk to Rose because there was no way you'd let him see your brother crying. _You_ didn't even feel worthy of this sight. Mr. Egbert and Roxy made really nice parents. Watching them console Dirk, comforting him for reasons you still don't know about (Your actual parents), made you even happier that you'd be able to stay here. A family, she said. The five of you, including him, were going to be a _real_ family. Before you know it, the words just come right out.

“Thanks mom.” You grin. “And Dadbert. For being cool.” The looks on their faces go from shocked to flattered, letting you know that you had definitely done something right. It definitely felt right to you. But this also wasn't going to count when it came to John. He couldn't be your brother. He had to be your best friend, and best friends don't strife. Completely satisfied and feeling a sense of relief, you exit the kitchen to find John and Rose so could deliver your news about moving. This was going to be so, so awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty for continuing to read <333 it'll get more interesting soon i swear  
> when they're older

**Author's Note:**

> ahh ty for reading!!  
> questions? comments? concerns??  
> message me sometime about 'em   
> octagonexplorer.tumblr.com


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